Just Another Word in My Vocabulary
by xxNicholeStellar
Summary: "What would you say if he wanted you so badly? I mean, what would you say if he came back?" Brick has had enough of being the heart-breaker, and he's back to mend Blossom's heart. But will his efforts finally diminish her and shatter her for good?


**Author's Note: **

I have finally come up with a brand new plot for the sequel! :D

It took way longer than expected for this to come together, but I guess it isn't all bad, right? I guess longer waits equal more anticipation? :D

Also, I am _done _with songs in the chapters! Done! That was _such _a flat-out fail when I did it last time, so this time I am cutting them out! I'll maybe have someone briefly mention a song if they're on the actual conversation topic of music. No more! D:

Anyway, I hope you enjoy this first chapter…the sequel to _Another Word I'll Never Pronounce._

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><p><strong>-Blossom's Point of View-<strong>

Today had the potential to be my best Valentine's Day ever. Today could have been the day when I was finally not alone, the day when I had someone to call mine rather than someone to grieve over. Today could have been one of the best days of my _life._

But, of course, Brick had the potential to make it one of my worst.

He left around two weeks before February fourteenth. Turned himself in for a reason I couldn't possibly understand. I cried and cried for days at a time. I wallowed in anguish and never wanted to talk to anyone. Ever.

So here I am.

The only day of the year when everything's supposed to go absolutely impeccably and I'm supposed to be at home cuddled up with Brick on the foot of my uncle's crimson loveseat, I'm at a fucking Anti-Valentine's Day party that Boomer invited me to. He said I needed to get out of the house, and this was the perfect way for me to do it without seeing people all coupled up everywhere I turn.

I wore my good outfit because I thought we were going clubbing or something like that. That was where I had _hoped _to go, at least. With the lights cut off and the only emotion you feel on the floor is excitement and anticipation, anguish and grief have no room to linger within the dark depths of my subconscious. They can't haunt me.

But here, dressed in a black ruffled pencil skirt that clung in all the right places and stopped at a length that even Bubbles would raise an eyebrow at accompanied by a dark gray, slinky top that had an asymmetrical neckline, I was exposed.

And not just physically, though that covered a significant percentage of it, too.

Here, my emotions were on full display. My hot pink-painted lips were formed into a solemn pout that admonished everyone in the room and told them that I wished to be left alone. My legs were firmly crossed, my arms were folded over my chest, and I sat glued at the bar for reasons I'd rather not mention.

And, on top of that, my feet were killing me. Hot pink, _five-inch _peep-toe heels with purple leopard spotting along the sides weren't the most comfortable things to wear. But, in my defense, as I had said previously, I hadn't expected on arriving at an _Anti-Valentine's Day_ party.

"So, Blossom," Boomer said, grabbing a seat next to me and swiveling around to face the bar," how you liking the party so far?"

I rolled my eyes subconsciously and shook my head. He had promised me that no one would be coupled up here. He damn well promised! Yet everywhere I turned, someone was having a full-blown make-out session right in front of my face. It was like they were taunting me because they just knew I happened to be alone on this particular day.

I turned towards the bartender and dug a twenty-dollar bill out of my clutch that so conveniently matched my shoes and slid it across the counter towards him, the pink and black bangles on my wrist jingling faintly.

"What can I get for you, babe?" he asked, looking at me from underneath his eyelashes as he polished a wine glass.

"I don't want anything too heavy. Just a strawberry-lemonade margarita," I answered, swirling my straw around in my glass that was now empty.

"_Again, _Blossom?" Boomer questioned incredulously, giving me a concerned glance. I shot back a sinister glare and rolled my eyes.

"Yes, _again."_

He adjusted himself in his seat to face me and placed a hand on my knee.

"Look, you're just doing all this drinking 'cause you don't know how to deal with Brick being gone," he soothed, his eyebrows furrowed slightly as he talked. I pushed his hand away in irritation and shook my head furiously.

"I'm not. Just leave me alone, Boomer," I mumbled, taking my refilled glass from the bartender.

"I'm just trying to help."

Suddenly, his eyes lit up in remembrance and his lips broke out into a wide grin.

"I have somebody for you," he finally said, beaming the whole time. I took a sip from my margarita and knitted my eyebrows together.

"I don't want to meet him."

"Yes, you do. And you know how I know? Because you two were _meant _for each other," he went on to say, nodding to emphasize his point.

"How could you say that? Brick is the only one for me. I don't want to meet anybody else!" I argued, turning away from him to signal that I was through with this conversation.

"Stop whining. You'll _love _him," he added before whisking off and weaving through the clusters of people on the dance floor. I sighed heavily and took a long swig from my drink before placing my head in my hands.

How could Brick do this shit to me? He could have at least waited until after Valentine's Day to fucking abandon me. I hated feeling like this all the time because of _him._ Why every time Brick and I are off to a good start, he has to go off and do something else? It's impossible for him to be still and just be _mine. _He's so indecisive and I hate that about him but it just breaks my heart because I'm still in love with him and I'm starting to believe that he's treating me like his personal plaything. Yep, that's probably it.

Brick knows that I'm his. He already knows this, and he uses it against me. He acts like none of this is affecting him, and I hate that, too, because it makes me seem dumb for staying with him because I seem like I'm the only one who's heart is on the line. With Brick, he freaking demands for me to be all in, yet he can be a foot deep and he gets away with it because I _let him, _and I'm tired of this. I just want him to stop being so uncertain about us and help make it work with me, because if he really loved me like he said he did, then he'd do it for us.

"Well, hey there, Doll-face. How are you?"

I turn to my left to see someone sitting next to me. I can't make out their facial features, but I can just faintly see traces of stubbly hair along his lower cheeks and chin, with a hint of a mustache; dark jeans, black Converse, and a red and black checkered button-down making up his ensemble. Not bad.

"Doll-face? Try again," I bark back, turning back towards the counter and crossing my left leg over the right one.

"Oooh, feisty, are we?" he teases, leaning across the smooth marble counter towards the bartender. He whispers his order to the tall, lanky blonde at the opposite side of the bar, and for a moment, I can't help but just listen. His voice is amazing. It's so deep, yet at the same time, it has this husky, almost man-like growl to it. It matches his facial hair perfectly, because I just _love_ a scruffy guy that hasn't shaved in a long time. Rather, I prefer them not to, as long as the hair doesn't get too atrocious.

As he reclines back in the red leather swivel chair, he turns to face me with a smirk on his face. I'm glaring back because I don't know what else to do. He's just smirking for no reason and it's like he's mocking me.

"How old are you?" I ask, and I just had to get that out because he seems too old, too mature, too _manly _to be seventeen, yet he seems too young, too sophisticated, too _smooth _to be any older than twenty. I really hoped that he wasn't over legal age, because I wanted to probe a little deeper and figure him out a bit. He had this cool, collected, reserved aura surrounding him, as if he's not quite single but he isn't agreeing that he's in a relationship, because he's just too _cool _to be tied down like that. What a rush.

"Nineteen. Why ask?" he breathed, scanning his eyes up and down my physique, as if he was evaluating if I was worth his time or not. Multiple thoughts were running through my mind by now, flattered and disgusted being the two predominant ones of the bunch. My subconscious was whirling, and all of my thoughts were clashing and contradicting.

"You look old," I deadpanned, and I immediately regretted saying it so nonchalantly like that because it came out the wrong way.

"I mean, in a good way. Like, you don't seem like a lot of older kids here," I spoke quickly, unconsciously slurring my words. I slur when I'm nervous.

He gave me a side-ways glance before taking his newly arrived drink and clasping his hand around the side of the glass. That kind of put me off for a moment, because his hands were big. It didn't put me off in a bad way, though – more like it intrigued me. He could nearly wrap his entire hand around it.

Turning back to face me, he threw his head back and took a long swig of his drink – which I'm assuming is beer, but then again he seems to classy for that "childish" beverage – and set it down on the counter in front of him.

"That's because I'm not a kid. I'm a _man."_

He watched my expression in amusement for a moment before his lips broke out into another smirk. I didn't exactly know how to respond. If I changed the subject too abruptly, I might come off as intimidated by him, which I am so _not. _But, then again, if I kept going on about him being a "man," then I'd just be inflating his ego and soon enough he'd think I'm into him and he'd start getting cocky.

"What are you studying?"

Ugh, wrong thing to say _again._

"I mean, if you're in college," I added quickly, turning away from him to conceal my flustered expression. I was getting tongue-tied here, and he was just smirking. I felt so childish, so _insignificant_ compared to him. I probably sounded so incoherent, which I hated because on any other day I'd be the most intelligent sounding person in the room, but when I need to rely on my articulacy in such a situation as this, I blunder on and on about the most irrelevant things.

He only smirked and took another swig from his drink before flashing his eyes to me for a fraction of a second, averting them back to his glass soon after.

"I'm thinking about it."

That was all he said, and I left the subject alone out of fear that he'd deem me too immature to simply drop a subject that I had no business probing into in the first place.

"Anyway," he began, surprising me just for a moment," why are you here? Single, no less?"

I immediately fidgeted a bit, crossing my right leg over my left one.

"Um, my boyfriend left," I grumbled vaguely, propping my chin up on one hand and stirring my straw in my margarita with the other.

"Ah, relationships. Teenaged ones at that," he chuckled, shaking his head as he sent me a simper. I tried hard to not give him a glance, but he was making this utterly impossible for me.

"Why'd he leave?" he added, leaning towards me a bit. That gave me a bit of hope that, just maybe, he might be actually interested in what I have to say.

"Well, something came up and he just decided to take care of it was all."

I wanted him to know as little as possible. Maybe I'd even come off as a bit mysterious? Interesting, even? Besides, how would it sound if I just told him that my boyfriend turned himself in jail for a murder that turned out to be an accident at the last possible second? As if. I knew my limitations on this, and I had no room whatsoever for mistakes here.

"Did it hurt?" he probed, staring at the side of my face, urging me to return his steady gaze. I finally did, and my eyes were moistening. I didn't mean for them to, and certainly not in front of _him, _of all people. Teenagers must be so indecisive and finicky to him what with all the sudden conflicting emotions and whatnot. This must be so _high school_ to him.

"Because…he probably didn't mean it. You know, it probably hurt him, too, and sometimes things turn out for the better," he went on to say, gazing at me with such an intent passion now. A tear rolled down my cheek, and I swiped it away before he noticed it. The last thing I wanted to do was seem like a crybaby to him.

"I know he didn't mean it, but he didn't have to leave like that," I whined, burying my face in my hands as I felt my throat begin to close up.

He leaned closer to me, and now I could feel his cool breath on my earlobe as he stroked my back with his free hand. I held my breath. I couldn't believe I was letting a complete stranger get this close to me. I felt so ashamed and violated, but at the same time I felt as if we had some sort of connection.

"What would you say if he wanted you so badly? I mean, what would you say if he came back?"

I finally recognized him. I was such a fool. How could I not know who this was?

I turned around in my chair to face him, and for the first time that night, I smiled, despite of the tears that were forming in the corners of my eyes. I didn't even care if they washed away my mascara and black eye shadow anymore. I sniffled one last time before wiping my eyes dry for the final time. No more tears. Not tonight.

"Brick," I choked out, smiling as he scooped me up into his arms. "You came back."

"Yeah," he answered simply, dropping his arm from my shoulders to hold my hand as he lifted me from my seat. I grabbed my clutch and pulled my skirt down a bit. He probably thought I was here trying to pick up guys by the way he was staring at my outfit.

"I thought I was going to a club or something," I answered quickly, my cheeks growing rosier by the second. He just smirked and led me towards the exit of the building. Boomer met us over, smiling even bigger than he had been previously.

"I told you you'd love him," he teased.

"How'd Brick get out?" I asked in disbelief.

"I never went," he answered. I turned to him in confusion, but he just shook his head. "I'll tell you at my place."

**-XxxX–**

I couldn't stop smiling the entire car ride. He kept laughing at me and teasing me for grinning like a freak but I couldn't help it. Brick just had that effect on me. He had the potential to make this one of the worst days of my life, but then again he has the potential to make me fall in love with him all over again.

When we arrived in his driveway, he cut the engine and told me to wait in my seat as he hurried to the passenger side. He opened the door, unbuckled my seatbelt, and lifted me out bridal-style towards the house. It was corny, sure, but Brick made it look so cute.

He gingerly set me on the couch and propped my feet up on the armrest before whisking off to go dig in his dresser drawer for a movie to watch. I kicked my shoes off gratefully and placed them on the hardwood floor beside the low glass table in front of the sofa.

He returned moments later with three movies and a CD case.

"What's all that?" I asked, taking a makeup remover cloth from my clutch and wiping my eyelids with it.

"Tonight you get everything you want. Anything. You pick a movie."

"What's the CD for?"

"It's my, um, 'Making Love' playlist. But we're not gonna go that far. It's just a bunch of songs. Don't think I'm trying anything, okay?" he answered quickly as he sat down beside me. Grabbing the remote off the table, he turned on the flat screen and took off his shoes, adjusting himself on the couch so that we were faced in opposite directions. He lifted my feet up and placed them on his lap, wrapping his hands around them. I snorted and kicked him in the ribs.

"What was that for?" he asked, grimacing a bit.

"Sorry! I'm ticklish. Warn me next time you're gonna do that," I giggled, readjusting my legs. He shook his head and smiled at me before suddenly sitting up.

"Oh, fuck," he mumbled, removing my feet from his legs and getting up from the couch.

"What's wrong?" I asked in concern, sitting up, too.

"I forgot something. Just sit back, 'kay?" he assured, walking back to the kitchen. I picked up the movies from the tabletop and glanced at the titles before briefly skimming over the summaries on the back.

When he returned, he had a small red bowl in his hands. He set it down on the table to get readjusted on the couch before picking up the bowl and placing it on his stomach right above my feet.

"I decided on a movie," I said, placing the remaining two on the table.

"Oh, which one?" he asked, taking it from me. He turned to me and smiled in disbelief.

"_My Bloody Valentine? _Really?" he laughed, taking out the movie disc and placing it in the DVD slot. "Are you sure? I mean, you won't be scared or nothing?"

"I'm sure."

He grinned and sat back on the couch after dimming the lights. After a few minutes, I felt something tap against my arm. I looked down and noticed a little conversation heart lying where I got tapped. Glancing at Brick's amused face, I cast my gaze back down at the tiny heart in my hand and read it. _I LOVE YOU._

I smiled and popped it in my mouth before gesturing for him to pass the bowl. He did, and I sat up a bit to find the perfect one. I scrounged long and hard for the one I wanted, because the one I wanted to show him was rare and the color on it needed to be just perfect. I wasn't about to give him a freaking yellow heart with green lettering. That's just ugly. He needs pink on red.

My eyebrows furrowed in sheer determination, and my lips were pouted because I was beginning to lose hope. But, just then, I found the absolute perfect one. Handing the bowl back to him, I placed the heart in the palm of his hand. He scanned over it and reclined back against the armrest. _I'M YOURS._

He stared at me for a moment longer, and I smiled bashfully and covered my smile with my hands. Brick leaned across and placed the bowl on the table before taking my hands from my mouth and pressing his lips to mine. I was _so_ quick to oblige.

It was soft and cautious at first, as if he was scared that I wouldn't let him in because I was angry with him for leaving. But he mustered up a bit of confidence and grabbed my wrists, pressing harder against me, more hungrily, more greedily. I didn't necessarily like being on the bottom all the time, so I attempted to push Brick back to the opposite side so I could be on top for once.

"No," he moaned, pushing me back with much more force than I could ever try to use against him. His eyes fluttered ajar for a moment, but they were closed just as quickly as they opened, and he captured my lips with his, slipping just the tip of his tongue into my mouth and tasting mine before sliding it back into his own.

It ended with him nipping at my bottom lip before grabbing me by my waist and pulling me over to his side of the sofa, laying me on top of his chest. He retrieved a blanket from underneath the couch and covered me with it, snuggling me closer to him and kissing me on the nose.

It's so peaceful and soothing that I could just fall asleep right here on his stomach. For a moment, I do just that, and I doze off for about ten minutes – I'm sure. But a terrifying scream from the television screen jolts me to attention. I jerk my head up and wipe my eyes. Brick just smiles and slides his hand across my back reassuringly. I lay back down and tried to go back to sleep, but I just couldn't, so I stayed up and watched the movie.

By now, I really wish I hadn't, because this movie is disgustingly horrifying. I'm absolutely certain that I won't be getting any sleep tonight.

"Brick," I whisper, shutting my eyes tight in an attempt to close out the multiple deaths flashing across the screen. He peers down at me and runs a hand through the length of my hair.

"Can we, um, go in your room?" I ask, turning away from the movie. He chuckles and rolls me off of him, stretching his arms taut before standing up and scooping me up in his arms, resting my chin on his shoulder.

I doze off on his shoulder again for another fifteen or so minutes, and I wake up beneath the covers of his bed. At first I freak out, but he isn't under them with me, so I calm down a bit and nudge him in the side.

"I have to go home," I mumble, glancing at the clock on his wall that read that it was four hours past my curfew. After the Professor died, my sisters and I moved in with our uncle, and he's really strict about what time we should be home.

"No…don't," he whines, snuggling up closer to me and gripping onto my waist.

"I have to," I contradict, sitting up. He pushes me back down softly and climbs on top of me.

"No, let's have a sleepover. I won't be sleazy, I swear," he suggested, kissing me again.

"A sleepover? Really?" I question, raising an eyebrow.

"Who doesn't like having sleepovers with their girlfriends?" he snorted, kissing me on my cheek to try and convince me to stay with him for the night.

I sigh and lay back down against the pillows. He grins in satisfaction and kisses me on my forehead.

"You can't sleep in those clothes."

"You promised you wouldn't be sleazy," I groaned.

"I'm not! Here, I'll give you a shirt and some shorts to sleep in," he offered quickly, stumbling out of the bed to go scrounge through his dresser drawer again. While he's up, he plays the playlist he prepared for tonight and grabs me a black t-shirt and red and black checkered shorts. When he comes back to the bed, he tosses the clothes to me and takes off his shirt and pants, digging in his drawer to find another pair of shorts.

"I'm not sleeping in here with a shirtless Brick," I warn. He groans and pulls a white t-shirt over his head before slipping into bed beside me.

"I'll be right back."

I get changed in his bathroom quickly and return to his room. He's already under the covers waiting with Frankie Beverly and Maze's "Before I Let You Go" playing softly in the background.

"So, you swear nothing's gonna happen tonight, right?" I ask wearily, watching in apprehension as he turns on the T.V.

"Not unless you want it to. Come on," he urges, motioning for me to join him. I reluctantly oblige, and he pulls me in and settles me on top of him, running a hand up and down my back. I'm so close to falling asleep on him again because he smells really good and he's warm, but I just can't go to sleep because I'm too worried.

"Brick, what if Boomer or Butch walks in?" I ask, sitting up a bit despite me really wanting to just inhale his faint, husky scent and succumb to slumber in his arms.

"I'll tell them we're just having a snuggle fest," he joked. I stare at him, because I don't think this is funny in the least.

"Brick, seriously…"

"Blossom, stop worrying. Nothing's gonna happen. I've got you, you're with me, nothing's wrong with having a sleepover with your boyfriend."

That last sentence makes him smile, and I nudge him in the shoulder to tell him to stop thinking about that kind of stuff. He's making this really uncomfortable for me, and I don't want my Valentine's Day to be like that. He notices my concerned expression and sits up.

"If the bed is what's making you uncomfortable, I can go sleep on the couch and you can sleep in here," he offers, staring at my lips. I shake my head and push him back down, laying my head on his shoulder again. I'm not about to mess up what we have. We've worked way too hard to get it back.

"Oh, Brick?"

"Mhm?"

"What happened at the court?"

He glances at me for a second before pressing me closer to him, wrapping his arm around my waist.

"Well, the jury kind of had two opinions to what happened. Some of them argued that I committed no real crime because at the time of the crime, I had no criminal intent on killing and that it was an accident. The other half decided that I should be charged with involuntary manslaughter and be in jail for somewhere between ten to fifteen years.

"After a long dispute, the judge finally decided that I committed no real crime. But, it was hard for the jury to even believe that I took the gun to kill her first but then decided against it. That's when the dispute started, because they began arguing whether or not I was truly liable. But the judge decided that at the time I did not have the intent on killing, so that was that."

I nodded, my eyebrows furrowed as I analyzed and thoroughly thought about what he was telling me. I'm so glad they denied him jail time.

"Don't ever do that to me again," I moaned, burying my face in the crook of his neck and wrapping my arms around his chest. He hummed in reply and I closed my eyes. It didn't take long for me to finally drift off to a light sleep, because he just smelled that damn good.

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><p><strong>Author's Note: <strong>Squeeeee! I'm really happy to be writing the sequel for this! I'm currently thinking up a plot for the spin-off, too, so I'll alert you guys when that's all ready, too.

I'm really content with how this turned out, so reviews would be lovely. ;]


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